Our Kind of Love (6 page)

“What?” I ask.

“Been asking if you got a light?”

I shake my head. “No. That’s bad for you,
anyways.”

She sucks her teeth then sways over to the brick
wall, leaning against it. “That’s what everybody tells me, but it’s my life and
it’s now or forever. I ain’t gonna live forever. I just wanna live while I’m
alive.”

Laughter bursts out of me. “Did you just quote
Bon Jovi?”

Aislin turns her head toward me and shrugs, a
smile playing at the corner of her mouth. Sticking the cigarette back into the
box, she slips it inside her pocket and glance up at the stars.

It hits me that we haven’t spoken much since
yesterday. “How long have you been at
Captain’s Choice
?” I ask.

“Almost a year now,” she replies, still looking
up.

“You from Newport?”

She snorts. “I’m from all over Rhode Island.”

“Okay…”

Meeting my gaze, she clarifies, “I’ve been in
several foster homes before I turned eighteen. Then I moved to Newport last
year and started school.”

I nod in my understanding.

“So, what is it with you and Reign’s boyfriend?”
I ask.

Irritation floods her eyes. “He’s fake. That’s
what it is.”

“Ouch.”

“Yeah, except she’s too nice to see that; he
flirts with other girls when he goes to parties without her. Reign’s too good
for him.”

What a jerk. Reign’s not even my girlfriend yet
she makes me feel uninterested in others. Is this guy blind?

“Anyway,” Aislin pushes off the wall and slants
to head back inside. “I’m taking off. You want a ride?”

“No, I’m good. I’ll catch the trolley.”

She shrugs. “Suit yourself. See ya tomorrow.”
Then she turns to leave.

Shortly after, I change out of my work clothes
and scurry out of the restaurant to catch the trolley. It’s not here as yet
when I reach the stop. I sit down on the bench to wait. A minute later a silver
Corolla pulls up next to me. It’s Reign.

“Hey, hop in. I’ll drive you home.”

I want to get in the car so badly, still I fight
the urge. “That’s okay. Don’t want to make this a habit.”

“How is it a habit when I’m the one offering
this time and not Claudia?”

“Still is,” I smirk, not getting up from the
bench.

Reign eyes me intently. “Did my mom give you a
warning?”

“Warning?”
I ask
in my confusion.

“She does it whenever a guy around my age starts
to work at the restaurant. I’m sorry. It must have made you uncomfortable.”

I laugh nervously. “Uh, actually she didn’t.”

“Oh,” Reign gives me that sweet smile again.
“Well, expect it to happen soon. Until then, hop in. I’m going that way,
anyways.”

The trolley’s approaching now. All I have to do
is say no and get on it. What happened to hands off? What happened to staying
away from the boss’s daughter?

Screw that. This girl is too damn enticing to
stay away from. I open the passenger door and climb inside, grinning a little
too much.

“Nice car, by the way,” I say as I buckle my
seatbelt and she takes off.

“Thanks.”

The drive is fairly quiet. As we draw close to
the left turn for my street, I begin to have this feeling that I don’t want to
get out of the car yet. I want to spend more time talking to Reign, learn more
about whatever it is holding her back in life.

I press my eyes shut and mentally smack myself
for disregarding my own warning. And before I can give any further thought to
it, I come right out and ask, “Wanna hang out a bit? I mean, if you’re not too
tired.”

She twirls her head and looks at me, and just as
fast bring her eyes back to the road. I figure I’ve crossed a line this time
but to my surprise, she says, “Sure. I was actually gonna go to this waterfront
lounge up here and catch the last part of a performance. Wanna go?”

Hell yeah! It doesn’t matter where she wants to
go, it could even be to a Celine Dion concert, damn right I’m going with her.
“Sure,” I reply. “Take me wherever.”

Smiling, she drives past my street. I cannot wait
to see how this night unfolds.

EIGHT

Reign

NO IDEA why, but I was relieved when Micah asked
if I wanted to hang out. Honestly, I find it refreshing to be around someone
who isn’t from Newport—someone who doesn’t know me.

The indie band already finished their
performance by the time we arrived at the lounge. And since it’s late and
there’s not much to do on a Tuesday night, I suggest we drive down to the pier
and hang out there for a while.

I park nearby and lead Micah to where the boats
are, pointing out Aster—the one my dad built for me and Mary.

The dock is chained off so we can’t get a closer
look at it. We stroll over to a bench and sit down.

“That’s cool,” he says. “You guys must have a
lot of fun with that baby.”

The Aster is sentimental to me and Micah’s a
stranger. Only, I feel so relaxed to the point where I almost want to spill
everything to him. “Actually, we don’t go out on it.”

“Long story,” I add when he furrows his brow.

“And I get that it’s not one that we’re gonna
discuss,” he replies, easily understanding.

He looks behind at the boat and asks, “So your
dad builds them for a living?”

“No…,” I peer down and pick at my jeans as I
mutter, “He doesn’t anymore.”

“What does he do now?”

Just as I look up he brings his gaze back to
meet mine. Surprisingly, I feel a chill run down my spine. I have to fight to
catch my breath before I can reply, “He’s still building stuff, only he makes
storage benches, chests, bookcases, and the likes.”

“That’s still crafty. But how come he doesn’t
build boats anymore?”

“He—” I stop myself from going further, saying
instead, “That’s another long story.”

His mouth curves into a grin that arouses a
strange tingling sensation in my tummy. I can’t keep myself from smiling, too.

I quickly find something else to talk about.
“How do you like Newport so far? When did you come here, anyways?” I ask.

“Last Friday, and it’s okay so far; nothing too
exciting.”

“Oh, so you’re looking for excitement?”

He hunches over and clasps his hands, gazing
over at me with a sly grin. “That depends. Are you up to getting me excited?”

I dip my head back in a short laugh. “Do you
always make these flirtatious remarks with your co-workers?”

Straightening, he creases his forehead and looks
at me appalled. “What flirtatious remarks? Relax, sweetness, this is how I am.”

“Okay, whatever you say, Micah.”

He shakes his head and glances at the pub across
from the pier. They’re turning their lights off. I look at my phone and see its
approaching midnight fast, only I don’t want to head home just yet.

“So, how about I show you around on Sunday,
since we open late that day?” Not sure why I offer but I like the sound of
giving him a tour of Newport, helping him feel at home here.

“That’ll be great,” he grins at me.

We fall silent for a bit before curiosity sneaks
up on me. “Are you ever going back to Colorado? What about your family?”

Micah answers my question with a question. “How
old is that boat?”

I guess he doesn’t want to talk about himself or
his family. Taking the hint, I think back to the day when Dad started working
on Aster. “It’s about eight years old,” I tell him. Mary died only a year after
Dad finished. Of course, I don’t tell Micah that part, or mention anything
about having a dead sister.

He whistles. “And it’s just been sitting here?
Come on, you gotta take it out sometime.”

This is such an intimate topic and it’s making
me uneasy now. “I’m feeling kind of hungry. Want a late night snack?” I divert.
“There’s a diner down the street that opens late.”

Micah lingers his gaze on me for a beat before
saying, “Sure. I’ll buy.”

We ease up from the bench at the same time and
our hands graze. The touch is brief, yet it tickles my skin and I fear I’ll
break out in goosebumps. I’m baffled by my silly reaction. He’s just another
guy who works for my mother. I’ve bumped into John, Clark, and others countless
times at the restaurant, but I’ve never felt the same intensity that I feel
now. It’s weird, because I don’t remember ever experiencing this with Nate, and
even weirder that I’m only now remembering my boyfriend. Jeez!

Looking up at Micah’s face, I realize from the
way he wrenches away from my eyes and reaches a hand behind his neck, that he
feels that strangeness too. I suddenly want to put distance between us. I have
to. Fast.

“Um…actually, you wanna call it a night? I feel
sleepy all of a sudden,” I lie. I’m not sleepy at all. In fact, I could go
jogging right this instant, that’s how awake and energetic I feel.

“Yeah, me too,” he replies, appearing a tad
depressed as he shoves his hands inside his jeans pockets and combs the ground
for something only he can pick out in the dark. Oh yeah, it’s definitely
awkward between us.

I start moving first, and then Micah falls in
stride behind me. We walk back to my car and hop inside, not uttering another
word. I drive him home and take off the second he gets out of the car. I don’t
even wait until he enters the apartment.

Our hands brushing against each other plays over
and over in my head, and the odd sensation I felt afterwards continues to
puzzle me until I reach my house and park behind Mom’s SUV.

She never beats me home. This is a first only
because I went and chilled with a guy who isn’t even my boyfriend. Gosh. That
can’t be right in the name of relationships. Then again, didn’t I offer to show
him around Newport? I guess it’s a friendly thing to do. I should just relax.

I calm down and walk inside my house. There’s
someone rifling in the kitchen. I tread through the arched doorway to find Dad,
dressed for bed, going through the cabinets.

“Whatcha looking for, Daddy?” I ask, gliding
across the hardwood floor over to the island.

He peers back at me for a moment then continues
searching. “I think your mom hid those ding-dongs from me, that sneaky woman.
She wants them all for herself when I’m the one who bought them in the first
place.”

I chuckle, “Well, why don’t you just ask her?”

Finally giving up, he snatches out a box of
Saltines instead and gets a bottle of cranberry juice from the refrigerator,
pouring two glasses. “She’s relaxing in the tub, and I know she won’t tell me
even if I ask.”

He puts the rest of the juice back inside the
refrigerator and passes one of the glasses to me. “Here ya go, honey.”

 I take it from him. “Thanks, Dad.”

He bites down on a cracker, and I’m about to
take a sip when he says coolly, “She’s worried about my health.”

“Should we be?” I ask, concern cutting through
my voice.

Dad waves me off. “Oh, don’t you get all sappy
on me. I’m fine. Anyway,” He wrinkles his thick dark brows as he asks, “How
come you’re getting in after your mother? You usually leave her at the
restaurant. Did you and Claudia go hang out somewhere?”

“Ye-yes,” I fumble my reply. Why am I even
lying?

He eyes me for a passing second, then drops his
eyes to the granite and drinks his juice. He knows I lied. I’m not good at it,
especially when it comes to my parents.

Dad picks up the box of saltines and glass of
juice, walks around the island, and kisses me on the forehead. “I’m gonna head
on up to bed.”

“Okay,” I say as he starts out of the kitchen.
“Oh, did you finish that project you were working on late last night?”

He stops in the doorway and looks at me
sideways. “Not yet. But you mind staying out of the workshop until I’m
finished?”